


A Cold Goddess' Comfort: A Fate/Grand Order Christmas Special

by JJBATrash



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Holidays, Light Angst, kind of a vent piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJBATrash/pseuds/JJBATrash
Summary: Ritsuka Fujimaru (a.k.a Your Name) has had some thoughts about the recent Lostbelt missions. When it finally becomes too much to bear, an unlikely confidante comes to your aid.
Kudos: 13





	A Cold Goddess' Comfort: A Fate/Grand Order Christmas Special

The halls of the Wandering Sea are more busy than usual today, bustling with an air of relief and exuberance. Despite everything, the Singularities, the Lostbelts, and all the random minute incidents in between, somehow you’ve made it to another Christmas. You find yourself happily greeting all of your colleagues as you pass them in the halls, a smile on your face and a bounce in your step. It’s the Christmas spirit, how can you feel anything less?

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. Yet, when you pass by the hangar containing the Shadow Border, you pause… staring at the looming dark vehicle fills you with an unease, and you flinch when you find yourself touching the outer hull. Visions of the past year fill your head… first boarding this vehicle to flee a collapsing Chaldea… losing the beautiful genius Da Vinci to the enemy… a sheer white and erased world surrounding you… flashes of the frozen lands of Russia and Scandinavia burst through your mind like memories of a nightmare. The Yaga. The Jotunn. The permafrost threatening to freeze your limbs and face… memories of your most recent encounter in China come next. The sun on your face… the ignorant but smiling people… the automatons and the royal guards…

A tear stains your clothes as you remember Patxi, the snarling Yaga. Part wolf, part human, his heart was only a little warmer than the hypothermic blizzard he lived in. You feel him grasping at your chest, and you feel his hot breath on your skin as you remember his words.

“You’ll have a lot of blood on your hands. You won’t be able to pretend it never happened. But you’ve still gotta do it. After all… your world sounds so much more beautiful.”

You remember the voice of the little child, Gerda, who you befriended in Scandinavia, despite knowing better by then. You knew that while you smiled at her, and stayed in her home, you were also killing any chance that she would ever see another day, you were killing the very world she lived in. And for what?

You remember the voice of Scáthach-Skadi calling out.

“If you would save your humanity, then kill me! Kill me, and cast us aside, Chaldeans of Proper Human History! You must cross the ocean of dead ice and flame, and the countless corpses of our hopes and dreams… and be on your way.”

Possibilities. Hopes. _Lives._ Washed away like so much insignificant specks of dust to preserve the world you came from. A world that was rife with struggle, with malice and greed, a world that was built on the bones of others. “Proper Human History”. You almost laugh at the words. What makes it proper? Because it’s the world you came from? Because it’s the world you know?

Qin Liangyu’s anger rings in your head, as fresh as the moment she directed it at you.

“Has all your bloodshed led to even one good thing in your world? Or just been an excuse for the next war? Tell me… What sort of bloody future do you see past the mountain of bodies you are piling up?”

Questions that lurked in the crevices of your mind, waiting for you to stop being distracted by the task at hand, now leapt out at you like an assassin, blade drawn, cutting into your very psyche.

“Was it worth it?”  
“Murderer.”  
“Hypocrite.”  
“How do you live with yourself? How do you sleep at night?”  
“How does it feel to be the invader?”

Your eyes widen, tears streaking down your cheeks, and you hurry off, running from the Shadow Border as though the voices were coming from there and not from your own mind. The sight of Mash catching notice of you makes you sprint faster, and you almost gain superhuman speed at the mere glimpse of the small Da Vinci’s staff or Sherlock Holmes’ coat. You can’t even hear what they say to you, and you don’t want to. You want to find a place away from all these people. All these memories. All these reminders of the reality you’ve tried so hard to suppress, tried so hard to ignore, tried so hard to put aside for “the mission”.

Your feet take you to Your Room, and if the doors weren’t automated you’d slam it as fast and hard as you could. You take care to lock it, then turn the light that automatically clicked on off. Slumping against a wall, you feel the cold steel through your clothes, and on the back of your head and neck.

“World destroyer.”  
“Slaughterer.”  
“Monster.”

Those aren’t thoughts. You say them out loud, cursing yourself as best you can between body-wracking sobs. In the darkness, you can almost see the forms of Patxi and Gerda watching you.

“You’re not real. I killed you. I doomed all of your worlds to nothingness. To oblivion. No, even worse than that, I doomed your worlds to have never existed. You didn’t even die, I made you un-exist.”

You mutter to yourself. You feel something strain your mind, something pop that probably shouldn’t have, and in a moment you feel and smell the familiar sensation of blood. A nosebleed, probably from the stress. Either that or it’s an aneurysm, and you’re about to die. Would you even care if you did right now? It’s only right, after all, isn’t it? A murderer… dying in their own prison cell. What a cheap way to escape your proper punishment… bitter thoughts like this clog your consciousness as your eyes grow heavy. If this is how it should end… fine. Whatever…

You wake up lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. The lights are on, which makes you wince and hurry to cover your eyes with your arms to block the harsh light from your sight. A voice speaks.

“Ah, you’re awake. I was wondering if you would.”

You turn to the direction the sound came from, and you see Scáthach-Skadi sitting on a chair facing your bed, by the door. You can make out a purple rune over the door panel.

[How did you…?]

You begin to ask but she answers ahead of you.

“A door panel is no obstacle for me. I simply opened the lock and stepped inside. You were unconscious in a pool of your own blood, so I cleaned you up and stayed to see if you’d wake up.”

[(So that’s what happened…)]

You think to yourself, giving an acknowledging nod before unconsciously checking your face for more blood.

[Well, I’m alright now, so you don’t have to —]

She shakes her head.

“No you are not, human. Tell me, why does my subject become so frail? Are you perhaps breaking down?”

Were this the normal Scáthach, her tone would be equally cold, but she would still be on a closer level to you. Given that this is the one merged with the Norse Goddess Skadi, however, you find yourself feeling very small when addressed by her. It had been only about six months since you contracted with her, and though your bonds were forged, and deepened, quickly through battle, there has always been an impassable layer between the two of you that could only be explained as “the divide between divinity and man”, as Sherlock put it. She was pleasant enough, but her manner of speech, and her way of seeing things, were something you could never fully comprehend, and that divide was precisely why. Which is why it was a task to both understand and not be hurt by what was to her a simple question, but such a dismissive one to anyone who wasn’t on that level.

[I’m not frail. I just had a nosebleed.]

You weakly answer. Her piercing gaze can see right through you and you know it.

“Lies do not beget you… you are many things, but you have never tried to lie to me before. Were the circumstances normal I would freeze you for doing so. Alas, things aren’t so simple and as you are… Well, let’s just say I give you one more chance to be forthright.”

Your hands ball up into fists as you resist the urge to say you don’t want to talk, while simultaneously not being able to conjure any words into existence. You feel stuck, unable to speak, unable to explain yourself. All you can manage is to sit up on the edge of the bed, like a child caught misbehaving.

“I see.” She nods her head and stands, her flowing purple dress swishing lightly as she moves.

“I’ll not force you to speak. But I am disappointed.”

[Wait.]

She arches one eyebrow.

[Please don’t go. You’re the only one I can talk to right now.]

“Oh? And why is that?”

[I need your perspective. The others would never understand, or they’ll try to placate me. You wouldn’t.]

She closes her eyes and gives a small smile as she nods.

“That is true. Very well. Speak freely, human. What plagues your mind?”

You fidget with your clothes as the thoughts try to coalesce into something workable.

[…Am I a monster?]

Her eyebrow quirks again.

“No, you are a human.”

[…]

Was that sarcasm? You almost want to show your frustration and yell, but think better of it.

[That’s what I meant.]

[I meant…]

[All this work I’ve been doing… All these Lostbelts I’ve traveled to… All the worlds I… I…]

“Erased?”

[Killed.]

She is quiet for a moment, and in that silence you can almost hear her passing a silent judgement on you.

“You are not a monster.” She finally answers. You aren’t convinced.

[But… you of all people should think I am.]

“And if I did, would I be here right now?”

[…]

The obviousness of that statement surprises you and leaves you unable to answer for a moment.

[I guess not.]

“There is no guess to be made. Were I to think you were truly reprehensible, I would have fought you the moment you summoned me. I am not the same Scáthach-Skadi that you fought in the Scandinavian Lostbelt, but I do have an inkling of what occurred there. For that reason alone, if I believed that what you did was malicious, or truly terrible, you would never have had my support.”

[But… what about all those people? What about the lives I took? What about the fact that I’m such a raging hypocrite that I should be torn apart for it?! What about the fact that I doomed innocent people to not only die, but never exist so that other people couldn’t mourn them or know what was sacrificed, all for the sake of an arbitrarily decided “Proper Human History”! I am a murderer; I am exactly what I thought I was fighting against. I invade other worlds, and I slaughter the people within it and doom the rest to die and their worlds to be nothing more than a fleeting thought by the universe. I killed three worlds so far… this isn’t the same as the Singularities where I was fixing one world. I have offered up three whole worlds of people to die for the sake of my own, when there is objectively no reason to have done it other than I wanted to. _I killed you!_ If that doesn’t make me a despicable, hateful, abhorrent abomination of a human then _what the hell am I?!_ ]

You didn’t even notice the tears that ran down your face, or the fact that your voice was a strangled hoarse string of sounds more than an argument. You didn’t notice that your body was shaking, your fists were so tight your nails dug into your palms and made them bleed, or that you were now standing. You didn’t notice that the door had opened and that you were not simply alone with Scáthach-Skadi anymore. Da Vinci, Holmes, and Mash all stood in the doorway, various expressions coloring their faces. Da Vinci wore a look of concern mingled with weariness. Holmes was, as always, studying you with his eyes; yet this time not only was he calculating everything in the air, but his own expression was tinged with an expression of pity for you. Mash was the worst of all. She had a look of pain, her own eyes barely holding back a river of tears that was threatening to overflow.

“Senpai…” Mash sobbed, wiping her eyes that finally gave way under the weight of her sorrow for you. “I never… I never knew this is what you were dealing with…!”

[…Mash?]

You turn to see the girl leaning against the wall, crying.

“Why… why didn’t you tell us anything?” Da Vinci asked, her large blue eyes filled with sympathy and sadness. “We always made sure to ask you after each mission… no, I suppose it wasn’t enough. I really should have made a better effort to check on you and talk you through this… I’m so sorry.”

Holmes sighs and furrows his mouth. It takes seconds for him to speak, but coming from the man who normally has a reply ready almost before he finishes taking in information, it feels like he was almost at a loss this time.

“It’s not fair that you were placed in this position. I know that… we all know that, really. Sending you out there might be the only course of action we have, but please… believe me when I say, none of us ever enjoy it. Not only do we send you into the danger, but we directly place the burden of these Lostbelts squarely on your shoulders. Of course we know the damage it would do to you… and I’m sorry we didn’t do better by you.”

Despite the relative lack of emotion on display from him, as always, you can tell that he is being nothing but sincere. As you begin to form your response, Scáthach-Skadi preempts you.

“See that, human? Each of these people bear the same burden as you. You are not alone in your feelings. Whether or not they are rational does not matter. They are yours to feel and no one can tell you it is wrong to feel it. But let me say to you: I do not think of you as a monster, or a hypocrite. It’s true that you have doomed worlds in the name of your own. It is true that you have fought through swaths of beings to get to your destination and your goal. You can never, ever deny that.

But you have also shown compassion to the people in each place you go. You have fought to ease the time they have left. You have disrupted tyranny and fought against injustice so that even in a doomed timeline, the innocent can enjoy their lives. You aren’t a murderer. A murderer kills without thought or consideration for their victims.

You are… at worst, a euthanizer. You visit these worlds, see all the possibilities of mankind unfold before you, and after fighting to prove that your world is the one that deserves to live — because whether you like it or not, there _must_ be a winner and a loser — you leave the world no more disturbed than it need be, and let the people within it go swiftly and painlessly. No monster would ever act so kindly.”

Overwhelmed by the words said to you, you only realize you've recoiled and fallen to the floor, slumped against the bedframe. Da Vinci is the first to step into the room, and gently pull at your arm to lift you off the ground. Holmes comes next to assist her. Once you’re on your feet, you immediately go to Mash’s side, holding her in a tight hug. Both of you cry, tears of mourning for the people you knew and had to leave to die. Tears of joy for still being alive. Tears of confusion and anger for being forced into this position. The voices that berate you begin to quiet, and Scáthach-Skadi bends down to your level, bringing her face close to yours.

“You are an extraordinary human. I am quite pleased to have you serving me in this fight.” She says with a small smile.

You sniffle softly and gaze up at her. The visage of a goddess, a sage, infinitely wiser than you and so much more powerful.

[Thank you, Skadi.]

You let Mash go just long enough to hug Scáthach-Skadi, letting out a few more quiet sobs. She resists at first, but relents and pats you on the back twice.

“…Please let me go. Your body is too hot.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh as you release her from your hold, and look at Da Vinci and Holmes.

[Thank you both as well.]

They simply smile and nod at you. Holmes pats your shoulder, and Da Vinci screws up her face in her usual determined look.

“Alright! We’ve had our chance to decompress and get all emotional, but now we have one more important thing we need to do! Come on! Dry your eyes and follow me to the Command Room!”

Scáthach-Skadi gives a knowing smile and follows after her, almost appearing to glide. Holmes takes his leave after, and only Mash remains. You both exchange one more hug, before she wipes some tears from your face and you wipe some from hers. Sharing a smile, then a laugh, the two of you head off hand in hand to the Command Room. Just as you arrive, you notice it’s dark.

[W-what the…?]

The lights click on, and all the Chaldea staff, and all the Servants you have contracted with, as well as Sion and Captain, greet you with a loud “Merry Christmas!”. A party popper goes off somewhere in the room, and everyone begins to mingle, giving you a smile and praise for all your work this year.

Slowly, but surely, your natural smile begins to return, and you spend the rest of the night surrounded by friends and with a heart empty of regret and full of holiday cheer. It’s the Christmas spirit, how could you feel anything less?

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! (a day late) I wanted to take some time to do a sort of character approach to the story chapters we got this year. I haven't done a serious character thing in a while so I wanted to use my Christmas slot to get some thoughts out. I hope you've enjoyed this, and don't worry, we're not done yet. Let's end this year with a bang. *wink*


End file.
